Let's be alone together with chocolate and stories
by whenthemarshmallowmettheslayer
Summary: Harry could just close his eyes and imagine Ron's blunt questions, Hermione's knowing (pitying) eyes and questions of why. Perhaps here was a good place after all. Lupin didn't seem terrible. But then again so had stammering Quirrell whose classroom stunk of garlic in fear of a vampire he'd anger coming back. So had Lockhart who,while annoying and useless, besides signing a letter-


Harry wished to be anywhere but here as his nails dug into his palm. Actually he wished this day had never happened. That he'd gotten sick and had stayed in hospital wing (which, yes, did say how much Harry was uncomfortable because despite often being in the hospital wing Harry wasn't a fan of the place) instead of going to Defense Against The Dark Arts. Even the sight of Snape in Neville's grandmother robes and ugly vulture hat was not worth what had happened.

Harry uncurled his fists and rubbed his face. A gesture he'd seen Aunt Petunia do when stressed; the time Harry turned his math teacher's hair blue was a memorable example of the habit Harry had for some reason picked up from his Aunt.

The door to Professor Lupin's office (the same office last year had been filled with moving photos of Lockhart) opened before slamming shut with a loud bang. Harry winched.

Harry's newest Professor (and by far his favorite of the subject even at the horror he'd been subjected to in the first class) looked far more worn than he'd a few hours ago. Which said something since Lupin had looked tired (and his patchy robes probably didn't help the aesthetic) since Harry first laid eyes on him on the Hogwarts Express. Lupin didn't say a word as he strode in his darkly furnished office. Harry's professor had an air about him that suggested he was ready to rip something apart in a very bloody fashion.

The moment Lupin's eyes landed on him that air was replaced with something else. His shoulders slumped a little and his eyes were, to put it in one word: tired. And sad. They were sad too for some reason and Harry hoped it wasn't pity. Harry wouldn't - no, couldn't stand pity. He didn't need it and what was pity going to do?

Lupin didn't seem like a man to pity him or least Harry hoped so. After all Lupin had given him chocolate on the train not to feel better because Harry had fainted unlike everyone else on the train but to actually feel better since apparently chocolate of all things could do that. Then there was the fact Lupin had jumped in front of Harry after a moment of shock at hearing Uncle Vernon's threats of food taken and Harry being shoved in a cupboard so the bogart would change. Instead of Harry's furious uncle the bogart had changed into Lupin's fear of...a silvery orb? Harry still wasn't sure about what that, Lupin's fear, had been despite having more than enough time to ponder it as he waited in the office Lupin had immediately ushered him in after the class.

Lupin, again without any words, sat next to Harry and slumped his back on the chair in exhaustion. A part of Harry was thankful for the silence - for the lack of questioning - another part of him wanted this to be just over. But it wouldn't be over now would it? If by some miracle none of the students in the classroom didn't tell their friends (who would then tell their friends that the Boy Who Lived used to live in a cupboard) Draco would most certainly delight in informing the school. Perhaps the blond wizard would act it out during breakfast and dinner like he'd had with Harry's fainting from the dementor. The other Slytherins dying from laughter (as Harry wished he'd just die in shame) at the newest performance.

Lupin rubbed his face with his dry palms before he finally spoke. "I'm sorry."

Harry stared at the wall infront him. The wall that thankfully was no longer covered with Lockhart's photos of himself. Actually, Harry thought, he'd take Lockhart, his photos, and replying to fan mail in detention over this.

"I should have stepped in before the boggart focused on you. I was going to," Lupin told him. It, intentions, didn't matter though. It already happened.

"I though Voldemort was going to materialize," the man confessed before letting out a very broken and bitter laugh (because sometimes laughing was all one can do). "I think I would have preferred that."

Harry noted that the professor had said Voldemort's name instead of the you know who thing. If Harry was less whatever he was now (Hermione would know the word he couldn't but think) Harry might be proud of the professor he'd only begun to know. Despite only just knowing him and the whole disaster that only took place two hours ago Harry actually liked the man more than his previous Defense Against The Dark Arts professors. Then again the last two weren't much to compare to. One had Voldemort under his turban and the second one was fraud who'd tried to basically do the wizard equivalent of a Vulcan mind wipe on Ron and him.

So yeah. Not really much competition wise.

Lupin reached into a pocket of his worn robes and brought out some muggle chocolate. He ripped the wrapper of the bar and broke one then a second piece off the bar. He offered Harry the slightly smaller piece. Harry took it.

The chocolate was nice. It melted pretty quickly on his tongue. Harry still wished to be almost anywhere but here. But then again where else then here? Harry could just close his eyes and imagine Ron's blunt questions, Hermione's knowing (pitying) eyes and questions of why. Perhaps here was a good place after all. Lupin didn't seem terrible. But then again so had stammering Quirrell whose classroom stunk of garlic in fear of a vampire he'd anger coming back. So had Lockhart who, while annoying and useless, besides signing a letter to the restricted section, just been grating in thinking he knew Harry and how his help was terrible to Harry's health. Then he'd try to wipe their memories not once but twice once they'd found out (or rather the man himself told them) his secret.

It isn't till they're more than halfway through the bar of chocolate that the silence is broken.

"I knew your parents. Your father was my friend," Lupin confesses in a soft voice and yet Harry stiffens. His hearts thumps loudly. Like a drum or something. "You've probably heard it before but you look just like him."

"But for your eyes," Lupin added after a moment. "Those are Lily's eyes."

Lupin finally turned to look at Harry. The chocolate bar and wall were forgotten in favor of them looking - no, staring at each other or rather what each other meant for the other.

"You're not your father though. Nor your mother. And I'm not who I once was," Lupin confessed even though Harry really didn't understand this confession. Harry doesn't know his parents (didn't even know what they looked like for years until Hagrid gave him a photo album of them) except for he looks like them. And even though he's not like them (a part of him admittedly for some reason hurt that he isn't the least bit like them) he still does want to know what they once were like. (Would have been liked if Voldemort hadn't murdered them. What Harry might have been if they raised him.)

Lupin broke the last piece of chocolate in half before offering one of the two last pieces to Harry. Harry took it but didn't eat it. Instead he stared at Lupin's, anxiously waiting for more (for something).

"Dumbledore says you have to stay with Lily's relatives." Lupin somewhat snarled at the last word. "I would take you in. I would," Lupin promises and if there's water (unshead tears) in the man's eyes Harry doesn't say anything.

"But I'm," Lupin paused. There was no chocolate to use as an excuse to delay this time. Lupin somehow found a way to sink further into the chair.

"I'm sick. The sick that doesn't kill but doesn't get better and I would hurt you and you'd be sick and your life ruined. I can't do that," Lupin announced firmly. "If I wasn't sick I would take you in. Take you far from your relatives and Dumbledore who left you there with them," anger had seeped into Lupin's words and there was something in his eyes. Or rather a color (golden) that wasn't there before.

Harry's professor paused. Took a deep breath in before letting a deep breath out. Lupin once again rubbed his face with his palms.

"Harry do you know who Sirius Black is?" Lupin asked Harry, his voice flat and exhausted. "Not that he's after you. Or that he escaped Azkaban but who he is to you? Who he was to your father? Who he was to me?"

Harry blinked. He felt dumb and confused. What Black have do with the boggart of Uncle Vernon and Lupin apparently knowing his parents?

Lupin watched him with tired and sad eyes. Harry's silence being answer enough he began to tell a story. The story of the Marauders. Of how James was a bully but a loyal friend (too loyal). How Sirius was James' brother in all but blood and how he almost had Snape killed. How Lupin - Remus - had a furry problem but he's friends didn't care. A story of love at first sight. A story that ended with Remus' friends dead except for Sirius who had betrayed them. A story that ended with a Harry an orphan left to his abusive relatives.

Here was a new story. One similar to one you've read. It began with them (the only ones left) here in the office. There were three main characters in this story but the third one, while already introduced and mentioned, wasn't really in the story yet. The first main character didn't care about the second's health problems. The second one eventually does take Harry away along with the third main character. There's time travel, a corrupt government, a prophecy, shapeshifting wizards, Snape having a conniption for an innocent man not being murdered, and last but not least there's four lives saved instead of just two.

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A/N: Originally posted on ao3 under the pen name youngjusticewriter.

The hardest part of writing this was replacing Remus with Lupin believe it or not.

A while back ago I came a cross a tumblr post about a Harry Potter what if where Harry did get to face a boggart during Remus' first class and Harry's boggart was Uncle Vernon yelling at him. I don't remember who wrote that post but once I find that post I'll let them know even though I wrote the aftermath of the prompt.

One of the problems I admittedly have with the adults of Harry Potter (besides them being able to give a run for his banks' money on being pretty much useless) is that not one of them thought that Harry should be informed by an adult and in a control environment where they could keep an eye on him instead of another student telling Harry (which while Draco didn't tell Harry he hinted at it) and having him run off to face Black himself. Admittedly a terrible part of me finds irony in the fact Harry finds out from the very people trying to hide it from him. I do feel terrible that Harry found out that way but a part of me just finds it morbidly funny.


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